Another Point of View
by Katillian Rose
Summary: It's been done before, but I am taking the liberty of applying my own ideas to Hermione's perception of things. It will stay true to the novels but also provide some insight I will project onto Hermione.
1. The Letter

Another Point Of View.

A note:

I am certain this has been done before, yet I think it is a fun experiment. I'm going to try and get inside Hermione's head as much as possible and start at the beginning. Who knows how far I will get.

Disclaimer: Cheers to you, JK Rowling

Chapter One: The Letter

On a particular golden afternoon in May, Mrs Granger and her daughter sat at the kitchen table. Hermione, busy studying for her end of year exams, noticed this glorious stroke of weather just as much as her mother. Mrs Granger, who was going over the dental history of Miss Amelia Bouquet, did not notice the weather at all. Both Hermione and her mother would have been alarmed, however, had they been in the right mindset to go about noticing anything. The housecat, who was constantly noticing everything, was the only one who saw the unusual golden glow that emitted from the telephone before it started ringing. To the housecat, it was not alarming- just something new.

Upon ringing, the telephone did its job to rouse the Grangers from their fastidious taskwork.

"Hermione, dear," said Mrs Granger, "Could you get that please? Your father might be held up at the office again."

"Yes, mum." Hermione walked quickly to the phone. Her head was spinning with dates she had just memorized, and it was in a slightly airy voice that she said, "Hello?"

"Hello, is Mr or Mrs Granger available?" The voice was a pleasant one, but not recognizable to Hermione.

"Yes, Mrs Granger is here right now, may I ask who is calling?"

"My name is Charity Burbage."

"One moment, Ms Burbage." Hermione walked the phone over to her mother, announced the name and only reluctantly picked up her history book while her mother took the phone call.

"Hello, this is Anne Granger. No I am not busy, as long as you aren't trying to sell me something. Oh I see. For Hermione?"

Hermione now was not reading her book at all. Her attention was captured.

"Well, Miss Burbage, Hermione is already enrolled in a secondary school for next year," her mother continued. "It is already arranged." There was a lengthened silence on her mother's part, but Hermione could see Anne's cheeks flushing before she said "And how could you possibly know that her admission has been cancelled- Hermione has perfect marks."

Hermione was worried now.

"And what school do you represent again? I see. Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt to hear what you have to say, though I have never heard of your school. Tomorrow afternoon will be just fine, I will make sure Mr Granger is home as well. Do you need directions to our home? Oh I see. Tomorrow then, yes." Mrs Granger hung up the phone, with an expression that conveyed both vexation and confusion. "I suppose," she said to her daughter, "you have as little an idea of why your admittance has been cancelled as I do."

Hermione simply looked at her mother, tears beginning to brim in her eyes.

"Oh Hermione, dear." Her mother stood and walked over to Hermione, giving her shoulders a warm squeeze. "I know there must be a logical explanation for all of this. Besides, Ms Burbage told me that the school she teaches at is adamant about you going there. I am not sure about the school, I have never heard of it. It is called 'Hogwarts,' I think, and she seemed to believe it to be very prestigious."

"But Mum," said Hermione, who couldn't imagine why her mother was not more wary of the mysterious phone call, "How do you know what she has to say is legitimate? You invited her to our house! And we don't know if she's telling the truth, or anything!"

"Don't worry, dear." Said her mother, "Although I am annoyed at your Secondary School, I can't help but trust Ms Burbage. Something about her voice was very soothing, and I think we can at least her what her and her school has to offer. She is coming tomorrow for Saturday tea."

Hermione still looked skeptical at her mother. This was not at all like her - to simply agree with an illogical occurrence and not question it further?

"Shouldn't we at least… call my secondary school and find out why they turned me down?" was Hermione's final attempt at speaking reason to her mother.

"No, dear. I am quite convinced. We shall hear all about it tomorrow afternoon. Now get back to your studying. You want to keep ahead for your new school!" Her mother returned to her paperwork, looking now contented with the entire situation. There was no trace of any wariness that had previously been on her mind.

Hermione took her book upstairs to her room, and her cat followed her up the steps. Strange things certainly had been happening to her recently - incidences that didn't follow the normal organized sameness that was her life. 'For instance,' thought Hermione, 'at school the other day, when my book had mud on it.' She was recalling the mysterious and sudden cleanliness of her book that had been dropped in the mud. She could have sworn it had been ruined, even after she wiped it off with paper towels. Yet, when she took it out of her bag after arriving home, it was in perfect condition.

Another incident had occurred when her father had broken his glasses. He spent hours fiddling with them, trying to make the tiny pin stay in place. He hadn't succeeded, and when Hermione gave it ago, the glasses seemed to snap back into place. She had just touched them, and then they were mended! She accepted the thanks from her father without explaining that she hadn't done anything at all, for she could not trust her own perception.

Yes, there had been many strange occurrences in her life these days, and Hermione soon grew to understand that Charity Burbage's visit might be the resolution to them all.

* * *

Hermione's father was the first to wake that morning, and he greeted Hermione with eggs on toast as she came down the stairs. Hermione knew that he was as concerned about the whole ordeal as she was, for his nerves wouldn't let him sleep when he was worried.

"Thank you, dad." Hermione accepted her plate of breakfast and joined him at the table. After a few minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence, Hermione offered to get out the crossword and both were happy to engage in such a distraction.

Anne came down the stairs just as they were finishing up, and presently they all began to discuss the various chores that had to be done.

The morning ebbed away, and the afternoon progressed. Before long, it was time to put on the tea, and await Ms Burbage's arrival. Hermione's heart was fluttering, and she had no idea what to expect. She could see that her mother and father were behaving more formally than usual, and guessed that they were getting in the right mindset. As the clock chimed four, a loud CRACK was heard from outside, making the Grangers' already tense nerves strain even more.

"Good lord, what was that!" Said Mr Granger in alarm. But before the other two could reply, the doorbell rang, and Mrs Granger was on her feet ready to greet the new arrival.

"Hello, Charity Burbage?" her mother's voices sounded from the entrance passage.

"Yes, my dear Mrs Granger, how lovely it is to see you. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to meet with you, under such suspicious pretenses." She arrived in the room, looking quite friendly and pleasant. "I realize I must have given you all a lot to ponder over, and regret I couldn't come straight to the point. However, here we are, and the cat will soon be out of the bag." She looked at Hermione, who could feel her skin tingling with pent up suspense and wonder.

"The- the point?" Sputtered Mr Granger, still standing upon her entrance in the room, "Oh yes. _Do _ tell us, Ms Burbage. I mean, heavens, what on earth could more important than our daughter's admittance into the most prestigious school in Kent. I do say, Ms Burbage, that this acceptance to this…. Hogy-whatsit or whatever you call it... must be quite something indeed for me to even consider permitting my daughter to attend."

His cheeks were starting to flush, and his voice began to rise in pitch a bit as he continued, "Yes, I'm quite sure you have an _excellent_ reason for your intervening with our daughter's future and happiness. I can't understand on what grounds you can make such assumptions that your school is better for our daughter than any school we choose. I know the politics behind it all! You want Hermione all to yourself, because she is a valuable asset to your no-name school! But it just isn't done, madam!"

He promptly sat down, and picked up his cup of tea.

Hermione was only slightly mortified. Her father had a bit of a temper, and it wasn't' usual for it to surface amongst guests. A quick glance at Charity Burbage informed her, however, that the woman was not phased at all. She had seemed to be expecting it and, after taking a seat besides Hermione, she helped herself to some tea.

"Yes, Mr Granger," she said while stirring in her cream and sugar, "Hermione is a very valuable asset to our school. In fact, her particular talents can really only benefit our school, and I am afraid that she won't be able to develop her talents at any other school in Great Britain." She took a sip of tea, watching for any more outbursts from Mr Granger. Mr Granger remained tight lipped, seemingly done with his fit and ready to hear it all. Mrs Granger remained still quite at peace with the situation.

"I say that her talents are only appreciated at Hogwarts," continued Charity Burbage, "Because Hogwarts is a school of Magic, and Hermione is a _witch_."

Hermione's first reaction to this was disbelief and wonder. She knew perfectly well that witches and magic didn't exist. It defied every law of reasoning her brain had ever processed. She was almost disappointed in Charity's words. She had expected something astonishing, yes, but also expected it to be true!

Mr Granger's eyes widened, and he slowly glanced at his wife for confirmation of what he had heard. His wife merely raised her eyebrows and asked politely, "A witch you say? And yet, I was almost certain that they didn't exist, Ms Burbage."

"Of course that's what you were taught, Mrs Granger," said Charity, still smiling. "But you see, now you have the opportunity to learn the truth because of Hermione's abilities. Had she not been a witch, you would still go on not believing in magic. Now you get to learn about another world that co-exists within the one you know so well. I know you won't believe me, and I am going to offer you some proof in a moment, but I must ask you all to broaden your minds while I speak. Pretend it is a story, if you will, and allow yourself to believe for the time being that everything I tell you exists within a book. It will make everything a little less shocking." And then Charity began to tell them about the Wizarding community. She told the Grangers about the ministry of magic, the different magical creatures, examples of magic that is done, and all about Hogwarts.

"So you see, my dears," finished Charity, "It is quite overwhelming. But it is true. Hermione is part of both worlds, and is therefore encouraged to take her place in the new one."

The Grangers looked simply aghast. Mrs Granger's disbelief in the whole thing seemed to finally over power the temporary acceptance of everything, and Mr Granger had not touched his tea for 10 minutes.

Hermione, although wary, had allowed her mind to imagine. What if it was real? What if this were the truth? It would mean all her hopes, dreams, and thoughts regarding the future would be changed. When Hermione was a little girl, she few playmates to fantasize with, and she grew out of playing make believe quickly. Yet after hearing Charity's description of Hogwarts, Hermione had traveled back in time.

It would also explain everything that was going on - it was almost logical. Could it be true?

"Allow me to demonstrate." Hermione had been waiting for this moment. Proof - something both she and her parents could depend on and respect.

Charity Burbage reached into her bag she had carried in with her, and pulled out a long wooden stick. The Grangers didn't have to be told what this was.

"Accio teacup!" Mr Granger's teacup flew across the table and into Charity's hand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The table lifted in place, and Mrs Granger dropped her own teacup on the ground. "Reparo!" The teacup repaired itself.

"It's true!" Shrieked Hermione, unable to keep quite any longer. So many emotions were flowing through her. She wanted so badly for it to be tru e- and she knew that she would work hard to catch up on anything she missed by not being born a wizard. "Oh Ms Burbage! Is it all true? Everything you said?"

"Yes, Hermione, it is all true and very real. Here is your letter, now that you will believe it. All the information you need is in there- where to get your books, clothing, wand, and everything. I realize that you won't know how to do everything by yourself, but together we will all work on a date for you to get your belongings. I will have one of my advanced students take you around personally and show you how to do everything." Charity turned to Mr and Mrs Granger, who were now getting over the shock. Mrs Granger was almost smiling.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Granger," Said Charity, "But I confess that I had to put a spell on you when I called. You see, I knew that you would not so calmly agree to meet me if I hadn't forced you to be optimistic about the whole thing. I often have to do it."

"And what about Hermione's school?" Said Mr Granger, finally. His voice still seemed a bit annoyed. "Did you confound the school board as well?"

"Of course not!" Said Charity Burbage, laughing. "I wouldn't to that to Hermione, poor dear. She worked hard for her reputation, and can now have the pleasure of turning a prestigious school down. Of course, I suppose she has the option of ignoring her magic, but I warn you all that it would come with a price. A witch who cannot control her magic is dangerous to herself and those around her. I would strongly recommend against it."

There was silence, and much drinking of tea. Charity Burbage knew to be patient. She had done this countless of times.

"I suppose," said Mr Granger, thoughtfully, "That Hermione is going off to Hogwarts then." He looked up at his daughter, and a tired sort of smile appeared on his face. It was all so overwhelming, but proof had been demonstrated, and Mr Granger was a reasonable man. He opened his arms for the hug that Hermione bestowed on him, and rose to shake Charity Burbage's hand. Mrs Granger also hugged Hermione, while Charity pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill out of her bag.

"I am going to send a message to my student. As you will find in your letter, Hermione, term starts on the first of September. I suggest that you go get you things -"

"I'd like to get my things as soon as possible!" Hermione said, now starting to truly appreciate how behind she would be. "I would really like to read my books, I mean." She looked pleadingly at Ms Burbage, and received a knowing smile.

"Very well, Hermione." Said Ms Burbage. "How about the first day of Summer vacation? This way you will tie up your studying very nicely, and be able to start afresh?"

"Yes, that sounds good." Said Hermione, already counting the days until the end of term. Oh, if only she could get started on her reading now!

"That works for us as well," Said Mr Granger. "We are taking that week off."

"Alright. I shall have one my students contact you by owl, as I have already explained. If you ever need to contact me, here is my telephone number." Charity handed a piece of parchment to Mrs Granger, and added as an afterthought. "Of course, it is unusual for witches and wizards to have telephones. Don't expect it of everyone."

She walked to the door, leaving three very exhausted Grangers behind her. "Until I see you at Hogwarts, Hermione dear!" She walked out of the door, and with a loud CRACK vanished from sight.

* * *

Hermione opened her Hogwarts letter in her room. Then envelop was thick and yellowish in color. It was addressed to her in emerald green ink, and sealed with what sh e assumed was the Hogwarts Crest.

The letter inside the envelop read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books, and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your reply no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minirva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.

Hermione quickly pulled out the list of assorted supplies needed, and was filled with wonder at the absurdity of the items. It was time to accept this part of herself though. She had been hiding from it for years- ignoring signs. Now it was time to change; and in spite of herself, Hermione grinned broadly at the thought of such a promising future.


	2. Diagon Alley

Another Point Of View.

Disclaimer:

JK Rowling is fantastic, isn't she?

Chapter Two: Diagon Alley

Note: Again- a very plausible thing to happen, simply because of its similarity to Harry's own story. However, it is cute and interesting and something new.

Hermione, of course, passed all of her exams with more than perfect scores, though she wouldn't' find this out for another two weeks. Her final test happened on Friday afternoon, and Hermione couldn't wait for Saturday. She had been contacted by another student at Hogwarts - a 6th year preparing for his N.E.W.T. Muggle studies class-the most advanced class Hogwarts offers. His name, he said, was Timothy Weller, and he was very happy for the chance to properly introduce Hermione and her parents to the Wizarding world. They were all to meet at the underground stop in London.

On the last day of school, Hermione bade her acquaintances goodbye. They were all going to different secondary schools, and although Hermione was suppose to go to the same school as some of them, she now was sure she wouldn't see much of her old schoolmates anymore. She didn't have too many friends- she spent most of her young school life studying and reading. Most of her classmates had given her a wide berth, and although she felt lonely at times, she often was proud of her top marks.

After waiting outside the school, Hermione was finally picked up by her mother. She didn't lose a second in bursting her excitement about tomorrow.

"Oh mum!" she said as she buckled her seatbelt, "Is there any chance we can go to London today? Just to make sure we are in time to meet Timothy? I just want to make sure we don't miss him, I mean I have to make sure I get all my books STRAIGHT away so I don't lose a minute of time learning about wizards, mum. It will be so fascinating, won't it? Oh! And can we pick up histories as well? Only eight books are required for me to buy, but is it okay if I look for some others as well?"

She said this all very quickly, and her mother smiled at her daughter. She had now begun to be excited and proud of Hermione. Her shock was still present, but acceptance had finally began to settle in.

"Hermione, darling" she replied to her daughter, "You know we can get to London in a half hour. We will be able to make our 10:00 appointment very easily. And we will see about the books, dear. Just be patient."

Hermione tried to keep more quiet, but her mind buzzed the whole way home. Supper was a quiet affair, but it wasn't a calm sort of quiet. The air was charged and thick, as if the Granger's nerves were emitting waves of worry, excitement, and apprehension. Mr Granger had also gotten used to the idea of Hermione being magical. He even had witnessed one of Hermione's magical outbursts the week before, and was properly thrilled by it. Hermione had been ranting and raving about a boy in her class that had been graffiting the school library, and sparks had emitted from her hair and fingertips. Both Hermione and her father were startled by this occurrence, yet were impressed at it further proving Hermione's magical power.

Hermione barely slept that night; she had to calm herself down by reading one of her favorite novels. She fell asleep that night, thinking about yet another world besides the two that she belonged to.

The Grangers had made it to their designated London Underground stop and were waiting for their wizard chaperon. Just when Hermione's nerves started to make her more than uncomfortable, she saw someone walking confidently towards them, who was likely to be Timothy Weller. The young man stopped in front of the Grangers bench they were sitting at and asked in a cheerful voice, "Are you the Grangers?"

Hermione nodded along with her parents and scrutinized the person before her. He dressed like an ordinary human- or muggle, as she supposed she was to call a non-wizard. He had light, long, red hair and wore khaki trousers and a blue button up shirt. He looked very nice, Hermione thought.

"I'm very pleased to meet you," Timothy said, shaking Mr Granger's hand. "I promise that today will be no trouble, as long as you stick with me. We are going to go to a place called 'Diagon Alley.' It is right down this street, if you will just follow me."

The Grangers followed Timothy rather timidly up the underground steps. Hermione, much taken by the confidence of the wizard, was even more nervous now. She wanted to impress him, and was frustrated that she had no means to do so. She knew nothing of the Wizarding World, and was properly embarrassed at her ignorance.

"Now, normally you wouldn't be able to see the entrance to our alley," Timothy said, addressing Mr and Mrs Granger. "But because you are with me and Hermione, you will be able to come into the magical perimeter. You'll just have to grab your daughter's hand when we get there."

Now surfaced on the busy street of London, Timothy informed them that the entrance was located just 2 blocks up. Once the destination was reached, Timothy turned towards Hermione.

"Tell me Hermione," he said, brushing hair out of his eyes as bowed down to talk to her, "Can you see the building between the bookshop and record store?" He smiled at her gently, as she looked across the street where he pointed.

"Why- yes I can," she said, wondering why he thought she couldn't. Her parents, however looked puzzled at his question, and it was then that Hermione noticed how the people walking by the grubby pub paid no notice to it. Nobody walked in, and nobody came out. "So only witches and wizards can see it?" Hermione inquired, awestruck. "But how does that happen?"

"Well," Timothy chuckled, "it's magic, isn't it? Though I know it will take some getting used to. It isn't as simple as it sounds, though," he added as an afterthought. "There is a lot more to magic than simply waving a wand and muttering an incantation. It requires discipline of mind, and force of will. Don't worry, you will be fine!" He said, noticing Hermione's panicked look. What if she wasn't able to make her mind focus, because of her not being born a wizard? What if she wasn't cut out for it? "I took a look at your file, Hermione. Hogwarts noticed magic coming from your house about a year ago, and you are certainly powerful enough. Also, judging by your grades in muggle school - we have a look at those too, you see - you seem to have discipline enough. I wasn't trying to scare you. Come on! Let's cross the street and introduce you properly."

And with that, the party walked across the street. Hermione grabbed both of her parent's hands as she approached the entrance to the pub. A sign over the door read "The Leaky Cauldron." Hermione laughed as she saw this. There certainly would be a culture shock between the muggle and wizard world. She heard her parents gasp as they went through the door. She assumed that they now were able to see the pub, and wondered if they were worried about walking into a solid wall.

"Hello Tom!" Said Timothy, as they walked past the barman in the pub. "These are the Grangers. They are new to the wizarding community. We'll have to stop by and get them something special on our way out!" Tom the barman gave a slightly toothless smile as he nodded his approval of the Grangers. Hermione sort of smiled back, but she was already overwhelmed. The pub was certainly very dingy, and there were a number of oddly dressed people around her. Three witches in brightly colored cloaks sat at the window drinking equally bright colored drinks. Creatures, which Hermione might assume to be goblins were in a dark corner of the room, playing with oddly shaped cards. A whole family of blond hair wizards dominated a table as they at breakfast. Hermione thought she heard them speaking French.

"If you lot will follow me," Timothy said, beckoning to the other side of the pub. They exited and reached a wall and some trash bins. "Now Hermione," Tom said, taking out a wand from his pocket, "When you get your wand, you will be able to do this as well. You see this brick here? You go three bricks up, and two to the right… you tap it, and…" But he needn't have finished, for all the Grangers gasped as they saw the bricks rearrange themselves to form a giant archway. The archway opened up to a busy street full of color and bustle.

"Oh my," was all Mr Granger could say, as he ushered his wife through the archway after Hermione and Timothy.

Timothy led them down the busy street, briefly explaining the sorts of shops. "That's where you will get your potion ingredients. . . Flourish and Blots- that's where all the books are. Oh, and Madam Mulkins is the best place to get robes."

Hermione's eyes couldn't get wider. She saw many young witches and wizards that could easily be about her age. She decided that she might be a bit early getting school supplies, so it was hard to tell. Her eyes wouldn't stay on one person long enough to decide anything anyway, for there was so much stimulation! They past a store that had thousands of burning candles, all smelling a different way. They heard strange and eerie music coming from another shop, and Hermione received quite a shock as they past a poster store. At first Hermione did not realize that the paper posters displayed on the windows were not actually very flat television sets, for the posters' subjects were moving!

Eventually, Timothy led them to what he called the Gringotts Bank. There, he said, they could exchange muggle money for Wizard money.

"And remember," Timothy said to the Grangers, who all were looking amazingly dazed, "Goblins run the Gringotts bank, so don't be alarmed. I will go up with you, but soon you'll grow used to talking and seeing all kinds of magical beings".

The Grangers made their way up the white marble steps and into the towering building. Timothy pointed to a section of the expansive hall within that had a sign up that read "Money Exchange." Mr Granger, now feeling that he was to be in charge, led the way, taking out his wallet.

"Hello, I would like to exchange some Muggle money for Wizard money." Mr Granger said to a Goblin manning the desk. Timothy stood besides Mr Granger, and Hermione hung back with her mother. After a number of bills left Mr Granger's hands, he was laden with a sack full of gold, silver, and bronze coins. The Grangers were already informed about the strange currency, but Hermione's attention was still captured by the glittering coins.

"So, Hermione," said Timothy as soon as they exited into the lovely sunlit street. "what would you like to buy first?"

Hermione didn't pause for a second to blurt out "books!" and they set off back towards the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. They arrived at the bookstore, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Never mind the fact that she hadn't grown up a wizard, for all she ever needed was in this store. Spell books, history books, fantasy novels (more real to wizards than to muggles) stood on shelf upon shelf. There were separate sections for the different types of magic, like transfiguration, potions, household spells, gardening and herbs, astronomy, and charms.

"Hogwarts?" asked the book keeper, peering down from his clerk desk at Hermione. "First year?"

"Yes." Said Hermione, somewhat taken aback as he took a pre-stacked pile of books and handed them to her. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Well," said Hermione, glancing around the numerous shelves, "I- I don't know. I mean…" She broke off, not knowing exactly how to describe her situation to the clerk. Luckily Timothy knew what to do.

"She is a muggle born, you see" He said to the clerk, "and she wants to catch up on some history or culture. You know, anything that will help her to better integrate."

The clerk knew the ropes. He wove in and out of the book shelves, picking up various books, pleased to have a profitable customer. He came back to Hermione with, "Modern Magical History," "the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, "Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century," and "Hogwarts A History" Hermione beamed at the sight of the beautiful books, each one displaying a colorful and animated cover.

"Oh mum!" she said, turning to her mother, "May I get these as well? They will be so useful, and you can read them as well, and we'll be all up-to-date."

Mrs Granger, of course, would spare no expense when it came to education and reading. Mr Granger was the same way, but he took no part in the conversation, as he was busy examining an anatomy book displayed in the Transfiguration Section.

The books were paid for, and the group wandered up and down the alley way picking up Hermione's Cauldron, (pewter) potion ingredients, and robes. Hermione loved trying on the robes! She couldn't imagine them being her uniform! Finally it was time to get her wand. Timothy led them down the end of street and into a narrow and shabby sort of store. The room seemed to be full of whispers and the air was tense. Hermione did not see the wand maker at first, he was in the shadows of one of the many shelves stacked high with boxes. Everything was relatively dusty, but organized. She felt sheer power around her.

"Well, well. Some new essence to circulate in the wizarding world, I see." His voice was merely a whisper, and his cold grey eyes looked scrutinizing. "And what sort of witch shall you be, I wonder." He continued to stare at her, making her quite nervous as he pondered. After moments that seemed to go on for ages, he broke his stare and proceeded to take out a tape measure.

"Are you right or left-handed?"

"Right."

"Very well." The tape measure extended on its own and measured from her forearm to her fingertips. The wandmaker, who she supposed was Mr Ollivander as mentioned on the front of the store, took off a number of boxes from the shelves.

"Let us try this wand," he said, taking out a lightly colored wand from a box. "Bamboo and unicorn hair. 11 ½ inches. Rather good with practical magic." He handed her the wand.

"What do I do with it?" She asked, looking imploringly at Timothy for a hint as she took the wand in her hand. He just smiled, and let Mr Ollivander deal with her.

"Wave it around a bit there," he said, getting slightly more excited, "nope, next!"

Hermione had merely gave it a flick before it was grabbed out of her hand.

"How about ash and unicorn hair, 12 inches. Sturdy, good for defense spell work."

Hermione yet again had the wand snatched from her, before trying wands with phoenix tail feathers: willow, holly, and spruce.

"Are you strong willed and steadfast?" Ollivander inquired while handing Hermione a wand with interesting texture in the wood. "We shall see. Dragon heartstring, vine-wood, 10 ½ inches."

Hermione took the wand in her hand, and felt something. A silver-like aura shone around her, and the air sparkled.

"Strong-minded and strong-hearted, perhaps." Ollivander chuckled, his eyes sparkling as well. "Very well done. You will have no trouble adjusting to the wizarding world, my dear."

Hermione's parents paid for the wand, and Hermione thanked Ollivander as the exited. She was more excited than ever, and she was ready to go home and absorb her books. She only hoped it would all be enough.

The party stopped in for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione had a flavored soda- orange and honey flavored. Never had she tasted anything so strange and wonderful!

Timothy escorted them back down to the Underground, and the Grangers couldn't thank him enough. He told Hermione he would see her at Hogwarts and gave her a sincere smile. She blushed and smiled back, and as he walked away from them, she found she really admired his particular hue of hair.


	3. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Another Point of View:

Disclaimer: Sometimes I feel guilty about not making up my own characters and storyline. But JK Rowling's characters are just too much fun.

Also- this chapter has more direct quotes. I didn't cite them, because it would take away from the flow- but all the dialogue between Harry, Ron, and Hermione is directly quoted.

That's all- I think.

Chapter 3: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Most unsurprisingly to her parents, Hermione spent the entire summer reading he newly purchased books. She read in her room, at the table, and under the apple tree outside. She obviously couldn't read in the general public, and she had to hide her books and supplies in a cupboard in her room whenever the Granger had guests over. Hermione's parents had to come up with a story to tell her confused relatives explaining why Hermione decided to change schools so suddenly.

Hermione herself had to explain to her only friend that she was going abroad for school, and wouldn't be able to keep in contact with her. Hermione was sometimes said, but excitement replaced any other emotion every time she absorbed herself in one of her books.

She learned all sort of things- "Hogwarts, A History" proved to be the most fascinating thing she had read thus far in her life. The castle was built hundreds of years ago, it contained all sorts of hidden passageways, ghosts, and tricks. It was protected by many advanced and ancient spells, and had great prestige amongst the wizarding world.

Hermione also learned about the major events she and her parents missed by not being associated with the wizard culture. The most major of these events climaxed ten years ago when a dark wizard, spoken of as "You-Know-Who," met is downfall because of a baby boy named Harry Potter. "You-Know-Who" had been merciless and simply evil. He had killed wizards, muggles, and anything that stood in the way to his becoming powerful. It had been unexpected, strange, and mysterious that a boy just over the age of one could defeat "You-Know-Who."

"And he's in my year!" Hermione thought to herself, as she calculated his age.

She read all of her course books, several time. She memorized many of the incantations, and even practiced a few of the simpler ones. She recognized one of them as the spell Mrs Burgbage had done on the tea table - the levitation spell. She managed to make a few paperclips flutter a few centimeters, but she couldn't do much more than that.

Despite all of her keeping herself occupied, Hermione felt the summer drag on. She wanted to go to Hogwarts every day, and all she could do was count down every day in her head while she waited until September 1st. On August 28th, she had everything packed and ready to go. On the night before September 1st, she could not sleep a wink. The morning of the 1st, she resisted the urge to get into her witch robes right away - she would have to wait until the train.

The underground took the Grangers to Kings Cross, and Hermione's trunk was lugged out of the car and into the station. After finding a trolley big enough to hold it, the Grangers nervously looked for the wall in which they were supposedly suppose to walk through. The barrier between Platform Nine and Platform ten. Both Timothy and Mrs Burbage had alerted the Grangers to this magical entrance, but they were naturally all wary. They were also very early to the station, with 50 minutes to spare before the departure of the supposed Hogwarts Express, so they didn't have anyone's example to follow.

"Well, dear" said Hermione's mother nervously, as they reached the barrier, "I suppose we all go together." She put her hand on Hermione's shoulders, and Mr Granger put his arm around his wife. Together the family strolled through the horribly solid brick wall, to find that they were standing in a completely different station.

"Oh my!" Was all Mr Granger could say.

There weren't many people at the station, for there was plenty of time to spare, and the train hadn't even arrived yet. Hermione sat down at the bench closest to the trolley, and waited nervously. Her mother took some tea sandwiches out of her bag, and passed them to her husband and Hermione. They family was subdued, each lost in his or her own thoughts. 20 minutes after they arrived, they heard a train sound in the distance, the pitch raising slightly as the train neared. Suddenly, a brightly colored scarlet steam engine rounded the bend and came to a halt at the station. It was the Hogwarts Express!

"Oh it is very pretty, isn't it?" Said Hermione, beaming at the site of her transport to the magical world. "May I get on now and find a compartment?"

"Let the train stop, dear" Said Hermione's mother, as Hermione edged towards the still steaming train. The doors opened up, and the coachmen beckoned the now growing crowd of wizards to come into the train. Hermione, despite her anticipation of the train's arrival, had been keeping an eye on the families that showed up through the barrier. The was no sign of Harry Potter- not that she would fully recognize him without seeing his forehead. (She had read that he survived You-Know-Who's killing curse with only a lighting shaped scar to prove he had been it.)

As she approached a seemingly open coach, she saw another person coming up to it as well. It was a boy, shorter than she, with a round face. He was accompanied by a slightly stern looking older witch who was levitating his trunk while talking to another witch. He grasped a small toad as it wriggled to get away.

"We can share it if you like." Hermione said, a bit more quickly than she intended. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger. My parents are just over there with my trunk, they can't do magic you know, which is why they aren't levitating it like your mum is."

"uh- she's my grandmother -" Said the round-faced boy.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Said Hermione, wondering why she had been so presumptuous. She blamed it on nerves. "What's your name?"

"Neville," the boy said, very quietly, "Neville Longbottom."

"Well, Neville," Hermione said, as she climbed up the steps to her compartment, "I think we should go in here. I am going to go get my trunk. As she turned away, the boy's toad jumped out of his hands and into the crowd. Neville ran after it shouting "Trevor! No, come back!"

Hermione fought her way through the now milling crowd of students and parents to where they were standing with her trunk on the trolley and told them about the boy she had met and talked to. With a wizard friend like him, she needn't worry about fitting in. If she had any questions, and the answer wasn't in one of her books, she could consult him.

"I think I have time to change into my robes as well," said Hermione, opening her trunk and pulling out her freshly pressed black robes. She pulled them over her head, and put on her hat, finally feeling self confident about her surroundings.

When the Grangers and the trolley made it to the compartment, Neville was sitting alone, clutching his re-captured toad. Hermione decided to introduced the poor nervous Neville to her parents. They were all politeness, and seemed comforted that they were leaving her daughter with another person who could be an excellent companion. As they bade their daughter goodbye with a last hug and a kiss on the forehead, Timothy appeared from within the crowd and shook hands with Mr Granger, assuring them even more that Hermione only needed to find the Headboy's compartment on the train if she needed anything.

Once the compartment door was shut, and Hermione's face pressed against the window, she could see her family being swallowed up by the many latecomers trying hectically to find an empty compartment. Hermione, giving one last feeble wave as the train started to move, addressed Neville Longbottom instead. He was still clutching his toad, looking very shy and self-conscious. Hermione decided it might be best if she did all the talking, since he obviously didn't want to say anything. She told him everything she had learned about Hogwarts, about how worried she was about not being as good as everyone else, and about her concerns regarding the sorting ceremony.

"I mean, obviously I would like to be in Gryffindor, but I would honestly by happy with anything but Slytherin. It is supposedly just awful and unpleasant. I don't think that I would be put in Slytherin, unless of course it is all based on talent. I know a few spells right now, but nothing I'm sure, compared to you Neville. With your bringing up, you're bound to be put in Gryffindor. It's just not fair, really. I truly did try as hard as I could all summer. I can almost levitate things! "

Neville become more and more horrified by the second, and his rosy cheeks grew pale.

"But -" He stuttered, "I don't know how to do any magic!" By now he seemed tearful. "I don't want to be in Slytherin!"

"Oh, Neville," replied Hermione, feeling slightly sorry for her poor friend. "But you must know something! You've grown up in a magical family. That ought to count. Maybe you will be in Hufflepuff! That seems like a very pleasant sort of house, according to "Hogwarts, A History," even if most of the famous wizards come from Gryffindor. You know, now that I think of it, there is no way I'll be in Slytherin. I am muggle born. I had forgotten. That's a relief."

She looked dreamily out of the window, beaming at the country side. After that, she scolded herself mentally for losing precious time, and got out one of her spell books. She had only read "One-Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi" twice.

Neville spent the duration of the ride talking to Trevor, through the bars of his little cage. He had a bag of chocolate flies as well that he was pushing through the bars. After about an hour or so, Hermione decided to walk around and see some of the other witches and wizards. She opened the compartment door, accompanied by Neville, and peered down the car at other people who wanted to explore. Most of them were still in street clothes.

Hermione and Neville, who had taken Trevor out of his cage for a bit of fresh air, began peering through the windows of the different compartments, looking for anyone who might be their age. They came upon a compartment which contained two younger looking boys, one of which was wearing his Hogwarts robes already, and a girl.

"This looks friendly, doesn't it?" Hermione said to Neville, as she knocked on the compartment door and entered.

"Hello!" said Hermione brightly to the three people in the compartment, "my name is Hermione Granger, and this is Neville Longbottom. We are first years, how about you?"

"We're all first years as well," said one of the boys. He was stout, and had dirty blond hair. He stood up and shook Hermione's hand. "The name's Ernie. Ernie McMillan. And these two are Terry Boot, and Hannah Abbot," he said, motioning to the other two who were sitting by the window.

"Hello," said Hannah, given a friendly smile and a wave. Terry Boot just gave a cheerful nod.

"So," said Ernie, "What house do you expect you will be in? We were just discussing it . . ."

"Oh I don't know!" Said Hermione, exasperatedly, "I just can't tell. I suppose Ravenclaw seems like it might suit me, if I could prove I can be clever enough with magic, but who knows what they will make us do!"

"My family's all been in Ravenclaw." Terry Boot piped up, "I think I'll probably be in that one as well - "

"Well, as I was saying earlier," Ernie McMillan burst in, "I think I would be happy anywhere except Slytherin. I don't think I'd like to mix with those chaps - nasty reputation."

"And I'm muggle born," said Hannah, quietly from the corner. She looked meek and shy, and was probably puzzled as Hermione beamed at her last sentence.

"So am I!" Hermione exclaimed, now taking the empty seat next to Hannah, "Aren't you just so worried about catching up to everyone else? I have tried very hard to memorize as much history as possible, and I know most of our course books by heart, though not all of them..."

Hannah looked incredibly overwhelmed as Hermione went on and on. "So hopefully I will be good enough to be in Ravenclaw, or maybe even Gryffindor! I am not counting on it, of course, but one must always hope."

"Dumbledore was in Gryffindor," Terry Boot said, over the book he had picked up during Hermione's long speech. "It's suppose to be for those who are brave, but I still think I would prefer the quiet and studious life." He went back to his book.

"Yes, it is very hard to chose." Hermione replied. She turned to Neville, who had sat down near the door, while listening to the conversation. "Well, Neville, I suppose we ought to go back to our compartment in time for lunch. I have some snacks in my bag." They said goodbye to their new acquaintances, and made their way back to their own compartment.

As they arrived, a woman with a food trolley was coming from the opposite direction.

"Anything off the cart, dears?" She pulled up to them, allowing Hermione to survey the many strange selections set before her. She decided that the pumpkin pasties looked good, and bought a few of them. Neville bought himself a few chocolate frogs, and a cauldron cake.

"It is rather fascinating, isn't it?" Hermione said to Neville as they sat down in their compartment. I mean, I have been introduced to wizard food before, but I am not used to it. It is so flavorful!"

Neville, who had been used to this kind of food all his life, simply nodded and looked over his chocolate frog card. "Ptolemy," he said simply. "I think I might already have him, but I'm not sure. You want to see?"

Hermione, fascinated still by the moving photographs, looked over all of Neville's cards, memorizing the different names of all the famous wizards. She was just laughing over the fact that Merlin actually existed, when a shout from Neville started her.

"Oy! Trevor! Get back here!" Trevor the toad had made a large leap out of the cage when Neville had opened it to pick him up. Unfortunately, the compartment door was open and neither Hermione nor Neville could reach it in time to stop him from escaping. The toad bounded down the compartment towards the end of the train, startling a knot of people walking down the hallway. Hermione looked in the direction in which Trevor made his mad escape, but couldn't see exactly where he had gone.

"You go and look for him, Neville," Hermione said to him consolingly, "And I will stay here in case he comes back."

Neville tore down to the end of the train, stopping in each of the compartments. He returned about fifteen minutes later, having gotten nowhere.

"Don't worry Neville! We will find him. I didn't see him come up towards us, so he must ave gone to the back of the train. Did you check the very back of the train?"

"Yes," said Neville miserably, "but he might have gone back there while I made my way up here again."

So Hermione and Neville went to the very last compartment, full of older looking girls, and had no luck. They tried the second to last one, and Hermione saw that it belonged to two boys about her age, and slid open the door.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She looked at the two boys. One of them had jet black hair with glasses, and the other had bright red hair and lots of freckles spattered over his skin. He also was holding a wand with a bit of hair poking out of the end of it. "Excellent," thought Hermione. "Maybe he knows something about the sorting ceremony."

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," replied the boy. But Hermione wasn't listening. She wanted to know what he was doing.

"Oh! Are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down next to him, waiting patiently. She decided she liked his freckles, and his hair was even redder than Timothy's had been.

"Er - all right." He cleared his throat slightly dramatically and recited:

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand over the rat, who had been sleeping on the boy's lap. Hermione hadn't noticed the rat before now, and was slightly surprised. She also noted immediately that the rat was still grey.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" She asked the boy, "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

Hermione beamed at the sight of them. They looked slightly taken aback- probably just surprised that a muggle born could be as good as they were. Well, she wanted to impress them. The red headed boy was the first to break the silence.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he muttered.

"Harry Potter," said the boy with glasses. Hermione gave a start at this news.

"Are you really?" she said, turning to him, "I know all about you , of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in "Modern Magical History," and "The rise and Fall of the Dark Arts" and "Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry asked, looking slightly surprised.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad … Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

She left the two boys, feeling very fortunate in meeting both of them. If only they might become better friends.

The rest of the train ride was quite uneventful. She tried to console Neville over the loss of his toad:

"Oh Neville, I wouldn't worry about him if I were you. He'll show up, for you know magical animals are very good at taking car of themselves. They also remember where they get food, and you have been very nice to Trevor, so he will find you if he is hungry, which is bound to be soon. Goodness, it is getting dark, you had better change. I'll be waiting just outside the compartment while you do so."

Hermione watched as students began to filter into the hallways, now all wearing their uniforms. Hermione felt a rush of excitement when I disembodied voice floated through the train saying "we will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to Hogwarts separately." They were almost there!

Neville came out of the compartment as the train came to a screeching stop. The two gradually made their way out of the nearest door, and Hermione admired the lush forest that bordered one side of the platform. The air was fresh and brisk.

Suddenly, Hermione heard a voice over the crowds of people coming onto the platform shouting "Firs'-years! Firs' years over here!" Hermione and Neville followed the voice to an incredibly tall and large man. He was quite shocking to look it. He had a big black beard, and wore a huge overcoat. Hermione waited by him, feeling slightly nervous. Soon she saw Ernie, Hannah, and Terry join the group, followed shortly after by Harry and Ron. There were about twenty others to join their group before the large man started walking away from the platform.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!" He continued to move away, and led them down a steep and slippery path. It was very dark and narrow, and Hermione kept close to Neville who was still sniffing over the loss of Trevor.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o'Hogwarts in a sec,' the big man called over his shoulder, "Jus' round this bend here."

Hermione rounded the bend, and had to stop in her tracks. The sight was beautiful. They had come to a great black lake, and on the other bank of the lake on a hill stood a large castle. Its many towers glittered with light from all the windows, and it gave Hermione such a feeling of pride to belong to such a magical and wonderful world. As she stood gaping, the other students began to get into little boats floating near the bank. Hermione came out of her stupor, and grabbed Neville's hand, hoping to find a boat with someone she knew. She came to Harry and Ron's boat, which had two empty spots, and got in.

"Everyone in?" the large man called out from his own boat, "Right then - FORWARD!"

The boats moved all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Hermione kept silent, as everyone else did, fascinated by the now looming castle overhead.

"Heads down!" yelled the large man as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads as they were carried through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which Hermione decided took them right underneath the castle, until they reached an underground harbor. Hermione got out of the boat quickly, climbing over the many rocks and pebbles towards the passageway that appeared on the bank.

As she climbed up the bank, she heard the giant man shout "Oy!, you there! Is this your toad?"

Neville, who had been next to Hermione, ran back to the boats where the man was to joyfully reclaim Trevor. Hermione beamed at Neville, but her moment of happiness was not lasting. As they all climbed up the stone passageway, and came out onto the grass outside the castle, Hermione felt more nervous than she had ever felt in her life. This was the moment to prove herself worthy of the wizarding world. She was about to overcome her first obstacle, and despite what she had told everyone else - she truly felt ready.


	4. Sorting and Settling

Another Point Of View.

A note:

I am certain this has been done before, yet I think it is a fun experiment. I'm going to try and get inside Hermione's head as much as possible and start at the beginning. Who knows how far I will get.

Disclaimer: Cheers to you, JK Rowling

Chapter One: The Letter

On a particular golden afternoon in May, Mrs Granger and her daughter sat at the kitchen table. Hermione, busy studying for her end of year exams, noticed this glorious stroke of weather just as much as her mother. Mrs Granger, who was going over the dental history of Miss Amelia Bouquet, did not notice the weather at all. Both Hermione and her mother would have been alarmed, however, had they been in the right mindset to go about noticing anything. The housecat, who was constantly noticing everything, was the only one who saw the unusual golden glow that emitted from the telephone before it started ringing. To the housecat, it was not alarming- just something new.

Upon ringing, the telephone did its job to rouse the Grangers from their fastidious taskwork.

"Hermione, dear," said Mrs Granger, "Could you get that please? Your father might be held up at the office again."

"Yes, mum." Hermione walked quickly to the phone. Her head was spinning with dates she had just memorized, and it was in a slightly airy voice that she said, "Hello?"

"Hello, is Mr or Mrs Granger available?" The voice was a pleasant one, but not recognizable to Hermione.

"Yes, Mrs Granger is here right now, may I ask who is calling?"

"My name is Charity Burbage."

"One moment, Ms Burbage." Hermione walked the phone over to her mother, announced the name and only reluctantly picked up her history book while her mother took the phone call.

"Hello, this is Anne Granger. No I am not busy, as long as you aren't trying to sell me something. Oh I see. For Hermione?"

Hermione now was not reading her book at all. Her attention was captured.

"Well, Miss Burbage, Hermione is already enrolled in a secondary school for next year," her mother continued. "It is already arranged." There was a lengthened silence on her mother's part, but Hermione could see Anne's cheeks flushing before she said "And how could you possibly know that her admission has been cancelled- Hermione has perfect marks."

Hermione was worried now.

"And what school do you represent again? I see. Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt to hear what you have to say, though I have never heard of your school. Tomorrow afternoon will be just fine, I will make sure Mr Granger is home as well. Do you need directions to our home? Oh I see. Tomorrow then, yes." Mrs Granger hung up the phone, with an expression that conveyed both vexation and confusion. "I suppose," she said to her daughter, "you have as little an idea of why your admittance has been cancelled as I do."

Hermione simply looked at her mother, tears beginning to brim in her eyes.

"Oh Hermione, dear." Her mother stood and walked over to Hermione, giving her shoulders a warm squeeze. "I know there must be a logical explanation for all of this. Besides, Ms Burbage told me that the school she teaches at is adamant about you going there. I am not sure about the school, I have never heard of it. It is called 'Hogwarts,' I think, and she seemed to believe it to be very prestigious."

"But Mum," said Hermione, who couldn't imagine why her mother was not more wary of the mysterious phone call, "How do you know what she has to say is legitimate? You invited her to our house! And we don't know if she's telling the truth, or anything!"

"Don't worry, dear." Said her mother, "Although I am annoyed at your Secondary School, I can't help but trust Ms Burbage. Something about her voice was very soothing, and I think we can at least her what her and her school has to offer. She is coming tomorrow for Saturday tea."

Hermione still looked skeptical at her mother. This was not at all like her - to simply agree with an illogical occurrence and not question it further?

"Shouldn't we at least… call my secondary school and find out why they turned me down?" was Hermione's final attempt at speaking reason to her mother.

"No, dear. I am quite convinced. We shall hear all about it tomorrow afternoon. Now get back to your studying. You want to keep ahead for your new school!" Her mother returned to her paperwork, looking now contented with the entire situation. There was no trace of any wariness that had previously been on her mind.

Hermione took her book upstairs to her room, and her cat followed her up the steps. Strange things certainly had been happening to her recently - incidences that didn't follow the normal organized sameness that was her life. 'For instance,' thought Hermione, 'at school the other day, when my book had mud on it.' She was recalling the mysterious and sudden cleanliness of her book that had been dropped in the mud. She could have sworn it had been ruined, even after she wiped it off with paper towels. Yet, when she took it out of her bag after arriving home, it was in perfect condition.

Another incident had occurred when her father had broken his glasses. He spent hours fiddling with them, trying to make the tiny pin stay in place. He hadn't succeeded, and when Hermione gave it ago, the glasses seemed to snap back into place. She had just touched them, and then they were mended! She accepted the thanks from her father without explaining that she hadn't done anything at all, for she could not trust her own perception.

Yes, there had been many strange occurrences in her life these days, and Hermione soon grew to understand that Charity Burbage's visit might be the resolution to them all.

* * *

Hermione's father was the first to wake that morning, and he greeted Hermione with eggs on toast as she came down the stairs. Hermione knew that he was as concerned about the whole ordeal as she was, for his nerves wouldn't let him sleep when he was worried.

"Thank you, dad." Hermione accepted her plate of breakfast and joined him at the table. After a few minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence, Hermione offered to get out the crossword and both were happy to engage in such a distraction.

Anne came down the stairs just as they were finishing up, and presently they all began to discuss the various chores that had to be done.

The morning ebbed away, and the afternoon progressed. Before long, it was time to put on the tea, and await Ms Burbage's arrival. Hermione's heart was fluttering, and she had no idea what to expect. She could see that her mother and father were behaving more formally than usual, and guessed that they were getting in the right mindset. As the clock chimed four, a loud CRACK was heard from outside, making the Grangers' already tense nerves strain even more.

"Good lord, what was that!" Said Mr Granger in alarm. But before the other two could reply, the doorbell rang, and Mrs Granger was on her feet ready to greet the new arrival.

"Hello, Charity Burbage?" her mother's voices sounded from the entrance passage.

"Yes, my dear Mrs Granger, how lovely it is to see you. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to meet with you, under such suspicious pretenses." She arrived in the room, looking quite friendly and pleasant. "I realize I must have given you all a lot to ponder over, and regret I couldn't come straight to the point. However, here we are, and the cat will soon be out of the bag." She looked at Hermione, who could feel her skin tingling with pent up suspense and wonder.

"The- the point?" Sputtered Mr Granger, still standing upon her entrance in the room, "Oh yes. _Do _ tell us, Ms Burbage. I mean, heavens, what on earth could more important than our daughter's admittance into the most prestigious school in Kent. I do say, Ms Burbage, that this acceptance to this…. Hogy-whatsit or whatever you call it... must be quite something indeed for me to even consider permitting my daughter to attend."

His cheeks were starting to flush, and his voice began to rise in pitch a bit as he continued, "Yes, I'm quite sure you have an _excellent_ reason for your intervening with our daughter's future and happiness. I can't understand on what grounds you can make such assumptions that your school is better for our daughter than any school we choose. I know the politics behind it all! You want Hermione all to yourself, because she is a valuable asset to your no-name school! But it just isn't done, madam!"

He promptly sat down, and picked up his cup of tea.

Hermione was only slightly mortified. Her father had a bit of a temper, and it wasn't' usual for it to surface amongst guests. A quick glance at Charity Burbage informed her, however, that the woman was not phased at all. She had seemed to be expecting it and, after taking a seat besides Hermione, she helped herself to some tea.

"Yes, Mr Granger," she said while stirring in her cream and sugar, "Hermione is a very valuable asset to our school. In fact, her particular talents can really only benefit our school, and I am afraid that she won't be able to develop her talents at any other school in Great Britain." She took a sip of tea, watching for any more outbursts from Mr Granger. Mr Granger remained tight lipped, seemingly done with his fit and ready to hear it all. Mrs Granger remained still quite at peace with the situation.

"I say that her talents are only appreciated at Hogwarts," continued Charity Burbage, "Because Hogwarts is a school of Magic, and Hermione is a _witch_."

Hermione's first reaction to this was disbelief and wonder. She knew perfectly well that witches and magic didn't exist. It defied every law of reasoning her brain had ever processed. She was almost disappointed in Charity's words. She had expected something astonishing, yes, but also expected it to be true!

Mr Granger's eyes widened, and he slowly glanced at his wife for confirmation of what he had heard. His wife merely raised her eyebrows and asked politely, "A witch you say? And yet, I was almost certain that they didn't exist, Ms Burbage."

"Of course that's what you were taught, Mrs Granger," said Charity, still smiling. "But you see, now you have the opportunity to learn the truth because of Hermione's abilities. Had she not been a witch, you would still go on not believing in magic. Now you get to learn about another world that co-exists within the one you know so well. I know you won't believe me, and I am going to offer you some proof in a moment, but I must ask you all to broaden your minds while I speak. Pretend it is a story, if you will, and allow yourself to believe for the time being that everything I tell you exists within a book. It will make everything a little less shocking." And then Charity began to tell them about the Wizarding community. She told the Grangers about the ministry of magic, the different magical creatures, examples of magic that is done, and all about Hogwarts.

"So you see, my dears," finished Charity, "It is quite overwhelming. But it is true. Hermione is part of both worlds, and is therefore encouraged to take her place in the new one."

The Grangers looked simply aghast. Mrs Granger's disbelief in the whole thing seemed to finally over power the temporary acceptance of everything, and Mr Granger had not touched his tea for 10 minutes.

Hermione, although wary, had allowed her mind to imagine. What if it was real? What if this were the truth? It would mean all her hopes, dreams, and thoughts regarding the future would be changed. When Hermione was a little girl, she few playmates to fantasize with, and she grew out of playing make believe quickly. Yet after hearing Charity's description of Hogwarts, Hermione had traveled back in time.

It would also explain everything that was going on - it was almost logical. Could it be true?

"Allow me to demonstrate." Hermione had been waiting for this moment. Proof - something both she and her parents could depend on and respect.

Charity Burbage reached into her bag she had carried in with her, and pulled out a long wooden stick. The Grangers didn't have to be told what this was.

"Accio teacup!" Mr Granger's teacup flew across the table and into Charity's hand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The table lifted in place, and Mrs Granger dropped her own teacup on the ground. "Reparo!" The teacup repaired itself.

"It's true!" Shrieked Hermione, unable to keep quite any longer. So many emotions were flowing through her. She wanted so badly for it to be tru e- and she knew that she would work hard to catch up on anything she missed by not being born a wizard. "Oh Ms Burbage! Is it all true? Everything you said?"

"Yes, Hermione, it is all true and very real. Here is your letter, now that you will believe it. All the information you need is in there- where to get your books, clothing, wand, and everything. I realize that you won't know how to do everything by yourself, but together we will all work on a date for you to get your belongings. I will have one of my advanced students take you around personally and show you how to do everything." Charity turned to Mr and Mrs Granger, who were now getting over the shock. Mrs Granger was almost smiling.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Granger," Said Charity, "But I confess that I had to put a spell on you when I called. You see, I knew that you would not so calmly agree to meet me if I hadn't forced you to be optimistic about the whole thing. I often have to do it."

"And what about Hermione's school?" Said Mr Granger, finally. His voice still seemed a bit annoyed. "Did you confound the school board as well?"

"Of course not!" Said Charity Burbage, laughing. "I wouldn't to that to Hermione, poor dear. She worked hard for her reputation, and can now have the pleasure of turning a prestigious school down. Of course, I suppose she has the option of ignoring her magic, but I warn you all that it would come with a price. A witch who cannot control her magic is dangerous to herself and those around her. I would strongly recommend against it."

There was silence, and much drinking of tea. Charity Burbage knew to be patient. She had done this countless of times.

"I suppose," said Mr Granger, thoughtfully, "That Hermione is going off to Hogwarts then." He looked up at his daughter, and a tired sort of smile appeared on his face. It was all so overwhelming, but proof had been demonstrated, and Mr Granger was a reasonable man. He opened his arms for the hug that Hermione bestowed on him, and rose to shake Charity Burbage's hand. Mrs Granger also hugged Hermione, while Charity pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill out of her bag.

"I am going to send a message to my student. As you will find in your letter, Hermione, term starts on the first of September. I suggest that you go get you things -"

"I'd like to get my things as soon as possible!" Hermione said, now starting to truly appreciate how behind she would be. "I would really like to read my books, I mean." She looked pleadingly at Ms Burbage, and received a knowing smile.

"Very well, Hermione." Said Ms Burbage. "How about the first day of Summer vacation? This way you will tie up your studying very nicely, and be able to start afresh?"

"Yes, that sounds good." Said Hermione, already counting the days until the end of term. Oh, if only she could get started on her reading now!

"That works for us as well," Said Mr Granger. "We are taking that week off."

"Alright. I shall have one my students contact you by owl, as I have already explained. If you ever need to contact me, here is my telephone number." Charity handed a piece of parchment to Mrs Granger, and added as an afterthought. "Of course, it is unusual for witches and wizards to have telephones. Don't expect it of everyone."

She walked to the door, leaving three very exhausted Grangers behind her. "Until I see you at Hogwarts, Hermione dear!" She walked out of the door, and with a loud CRACK vanished from sight.

* * *

Hermione opened her Hogwarts letter in her room. Then envelop was thick and yellowish in color. It was addressed to her in emerald green ink, and sealed with what sh e assumed was the Hogwarts Crest.

The letter inside the envelop read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books, and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your reply no later than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minirva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.

Hermione quickly pulled out the list of assorted supplies needed, and was filled with wonder at the absurdity of the items. It was time to accept this part of herself though. She had been hiding from it for years- ignoring signs. Now it was time to change; and in spite of herself, Hermione grinned broadly at the thought of such a promising future.


End file.
